


place

by flybynight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crime, Detectives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 03:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11095494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flybynight/pseuds/flybynight
Summary: Alfred lives to serve and protect. sometimes he needs reminders of what’s most important to keep him grounded.





	place

**Author's Note:**

> pairing: us/uk  
> warnings: some angst... rather shoddy writing.
> 
> Repost from my tumblr! I was ridiculously lazy for waiting until now to post it here. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed. :)

“Detective Jones?”

Alfred looked up from his desk, the pile of reports spilling haphazardly from their stacks in front of him. He blinked a few times, not realizing how blindly he’d been staring down at the shoddy lamp light reflecting from the pages of white paper, the words and lines bleeding together into a mess of ink.

“Detective Jones– are you all right?”

He turned his head, finally taking note that he was being spoken to by one of the other officers, still at the precinct even at this late hour. He was one of the latest rookies, paper pushing until late and likely trying to clock some overtime. It was easy to notice, as like with most jobs, the new guys worked overtime if they wanted it. The veterans, those like Alfred, worked it because they had to.

“Yeah?” he finally answered, pushing his hair out of his eyes as the other man continued looking at him with some concern. He put on his signature friendly grin to appease him. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

“The captain wants to speak with you,” the other replied, hooking a thumb behind him.

_Great_.

Alfred inwardly grimaced and set down his pen, the piece of plastic having left marks in his skin from how tightly he’d been holding it moments ago. He stood up, chair scraping hard against the floor as he headed towards the back office where his boss was likely waiting, probably about to give him an earful for spending another late night. He wasn’t in the mood for it.

Captain Hutchinson was a gruff man, hard and grizzled by the job just as the rest of them likely would be or already were. You didn’t work with the men in Blue in the city and not see some things, learn more about the deepest and darkest recesses of humankind and come out of it unscathed. Alfred had been doing this job for only 8 years now, and though he’d changed quite a lot from his starry-eyed days at the academy and after a stint in the military, he still felt like like a child in comparison. Hutchinson had that effect on people, his presence commanding the sort of authority one would expect.

“Alfred, you want to explain why you’re still here?” the captain began before Alfred even had a chance to close the door, “court was over six hours ago, as was your case.”

Alfred slipped his hands into his pockets, looking only mildly contrite. “With all due respect, Captain, I’m pretty sure you reamed me last time for not finishing my reports on time before–”

“Don’t get smart, Jones.”

Alfred managed to look sheepish, but didn’t say anything more. Hutchinson stood up from his desk, frowning as he came round to regard him. “This is about the fourth week in a row I’ve seen you in here past 11. Do I need to put you on mandatory leave to get you out of here?”

“No sir–”

“Don’t you have someone waiting for you at home?”

Alfred’s shoulders stiffened instantly, immediately thinking of the glossy framed photo sitting on his own desk, a picture he couldn’t miss even when he was flipping through case files and notes and guzzling cheap cups of coffee. He never forgot about the most important person in his life– how could he?

Arthur was at home, waiting for him like he always was, knowing Alfred would come back eventually.

“Yeah, I–” he swallowed thickly, guilt heavy on his heart. “Of course, I was just finishing up.”

“Well finish and get out. I know you’re probably saving up for the wedding, but the department can’t afford to pay you to sit at a desk and brood after hours. Got it?”

Alfred smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

Figuring that was the end of it, he turned to open the door and leave.

“And Jones?”

He stopped. “Yes sir?”

“I know these last few cases have been rough. It’s been tough for all of us. Do me a favor and don’t take it home with you.”

Alfred went to gather his things from his desk, turning out the lamp and ignoring the mess of papers he was leaving behind. His captain was right– he couldn’t take it home with him, even though he inevitably would somehow. Something would remind him, perhaps in the morning paper, when he turned on the television to watch the news. Something would always bring him back here, steal him away from where he truly wanted to be.

He glanced at the photo on his desk one last time before pulling on his coat. It was time to go home to the real thing.

–

Alfred had been with Arthur for as long as he’d been a police officer. He’d met him when he was still just a cadet, crushing on the older man who had lived in his apartment building for a while until Alfred had worked up the nerve to ask him out to dinner. Alfred right away had shown he was ambitious in all other areas, confiding in the other of his dreams about protecting people and protecting the city, righting the wrongs and making sure the justice system did what it was supposed to do.

Even then, Arthur had known that Alfred would be a handful– he’d certainly said as much, multiple times to his face, and in turn, Alfred would often wonder why someone like Arthur would have chosen to be with someone who was practically already married to his career. Arthur, who was beautiful, fantastically down to earth save for when he talked of the fantasy books he liked to read and skimmed the horoscopes in the paper during breakfast for fun. Arthur, who had been unusually temperamental and quick to anger, always giving Alfred a run for his money and going toe to toe with him in nearly every regard.

Arthur, who had been his rock for 12 years now, with him through every setback and every triumph, holding his hand when he felt lost, kissing him goodbye when he’d gone off to fight for his country, and holding him as though he’d never let go when he returned. When Alfred had been promoted from officer to detective, Arthur had been so happy for him. So proud. He couldn’t have asked for a better partner in life.

They were finally engaged now, after years of waiting for just the right time in their lives to fully settle down, and all Alfred could think was that his captain and his conscience were completely right. He wasn’t doing what he was supposed to do, coming home so world weary and weak. The only thing he would ensure was that he was not laying it all upon the shoulders of the one person he wanted nothing more than to protect from the ugliness he had to see everyday. Arthur didn’t need to know about these things.

These last few cases had been tough though, it was true. They involved people, people just like Alfred, who had families, lovers, friends that they lost. Those who would never be able to come home, their lives cut short for so many different reasons. Homicide was never easy, and it was never just about catching the bad guy.

He entered their home quietly. It was almost one in the morning, certainly not the latest he’d ever come home, but still long after he should have been here. When he’d first started pulling long hours, Arthur would wait up for him, under the guise of losing track of the time himself. Alfred always saw right through him, more in love with the other man than he ever thought possible, but urging him not to strain himself for his sake.

He was relieved to see all of the lights out in the house, meaning he wasn’t staying up pretending to do some idle chore to pass the time. He toed off his shoes and tossed his jacket on the back of the living room chair to be put away tomorrow, and headed straight for the bedroom, itching to see his lover and make sure he was safe and sound.

He was–curled up fast asleep in their bed, illuminated by the stream of moonlight from the windows, and with the company of their two cats both tucked comfortably at Arthur’s side. One was a somewhat unfriendly scottish fold who seemed entirely content to dislike everyone and everything but Arthur, and the other, a chubby maine coon that accounted for a considerable amount of their grocery bill. Alfred had gotten the two cats for Arthur three Christmases ago, and it had still been the best gift he’d ever given him. They were sweet, protective little things. Almost too protective, as they clung to him constantly. Even now, as Alfred undressed and tried to slip into the bed, the cats turned and looked at him pointedly, unimpressed.

“Come on now, you both have nice warm cat beds I spent a fortune on, go use ‘em,” he whispered, patting the bigger one on the rump to try and get them to budge. It took some doing, but they finally did, flouncing off, and Alfred almost felt bad until he was able to slide closer to his fiance, watching the Arthur shift slightly at the disturbance.

Smiling, he leaned down to kiss Arthur’s forehead gently, only to pull back and see the other’s eyes flutter open.

“Alfred, you’re home…” Arthur yawned adorably, already reaching for him as he turned onto his side to face him, “what time is it?”

“Late,” Alfred answered simply, stroking a hand down Arthur’s face gently. “Go back to sleep, babe, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Well, you did,” Arthur replied, but it was said affectionately as he pressed a teasing, smiling kiss to Alfred’s lips that he savored, kissing back warmly and a touch more enthusiastically than he’d meant to. It was often times a reflex, simply just from being near the other, that his passions felt so overwhelming. Loving this person so dearly meant that any time apart needed to be accounted and made up for.

Arthur always noticed, and always answered in turn, adapting and meeting Alfred’s passions with just as much fervor. As they parted for breath, his mates eyes passed over him, fully awake now.

“Long day?”

Alfred chuckled, but it was tempered with a sigh that was almost enough of an answer on its own. He simply kissed Arthur again, slipping under the covers and leaning back as his husband-to-be scooted closer to fit beside him.

“It was. But it’s over now. I’m home,” he finally replied, letting his eyes fall closed. Quiet fell over the room somewhat, until he felt Arthur moving again, attempting to sit up. Alfred opened his eyes again and sat up as well, quirking an eyebrow as the other man climbed over him, straddling his waist.

“Are you?” Arthur asked, urging Alfred to sit up more so that they could get closer to one another, Alfred cradling him atop his hips, “home, I mean?”

Alfred blinked rapidly, trying to parse the meaning in that. Arthur was giving him a look that meant he should have known, so he pushed through his tired, muddled mind to find the answer.

He tried to grin, pressing yet another kiss to the corner of Arthur’s worried frown. “'Course I am.”

But it didn’t go away, not from the stiff line of his shoulders, or the somewhat far away look in his eyes. Even though Arthur was essentially the very center of his universe, he couldn’t quite separate entirely from the harsh reality they were forced to live in at times, and his frustration from today’s case, and yesterday’s, and the day before’s– hell, the past several weeks, came back almost instantly.

And his love knew. Perhaps it was because they’d been together so long that Arthur was able to read him so well. Perhaps his eyes betrayed the anxieties he’d been trying to shed the entire drive home. He didn’t know, but he felt badly for it.

“I know it must be bad, recently.”

Alfred looked up. “What?”

“You’ve barely been here. Mentally. I’m constantly pulling you back from some thought or memory, did you know that?”

He wasn’t sure if he was being scolded or not. Arthur’s tone wasn’t angry or upset however, simply matter of fact. And still somehow that made him feel worse, knowing that he was doing even more poorly than he’d thought at keeping the ghosts at bay.

“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes darkened with sadness, “I’ve… I’ve been tired, there’s so much shit happening, but I didn’t want to bother you about them–”

“And I would never ask you to relive any of that again, never demand or push you to tell me,” Arthur interrupted softly, touching his fingers to Alfred’s cheek, “I watch you, day after day– you fight these long battles. You put yourself into every last one of your cases, invest in them as though they are apart of you. That’s admirable, even though it worries me to damned near death because I know you’re a fool who can’t do a single thing without pushing to extremes.”

He was right about that. Arthur had always known him better than he knew himself. He wouldn’t trust his heart with anyone else, anyone less. And still Arthur trusted _him._ He could never deny that, and if he did nothing else in his life worth doing, he would make sure he never, ever took that for granted.

He thought on that, as Arthur pressed his lips to Alfred’s temple gently and whispered, “But I want you to be here, with me, right now.”

“Sweetheart…”

“I won’t force you to talk about it. But I want you to know that you can. I want you to know that you always have me to come home to, a safe place.”

Alfred pecked their lips together gently. “I know.”

“And I love you no matter where or when, I promise you that,” the other man’s voice had softened a touch more, yet his words were no less fervent, “just please– Be here, with me?”

Arthur’s lips brushed over his ear, and Alfred clutched at him, his rock and his anchor. “Always. _Always_.”

Perhaps he couldn’t change the world, and that did not mean he couldn’t try. For moments like this, in the calm and quiet, with the only man he would ever love. All for Arthur.


End file.
